


An Unfortunate Predicament

by ShayFaitMidea



Series: Adventures in Incoherence [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 20:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15275877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShayFaitMidea/pseuds/ShayFaitMidea
Summary: The life and trials of a girl named Chance.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever post to AO3, so please leave reviews and criticism! Thanks for reading!

              Jackie Tyler thought of herself as a very rational woman, thank you very much. She had a perfectly lovely daughter, who (up until quite recently) had had a perfectly lovely job. She lived in a homey, serviceable apartment in London, and she had friends that lived very near her, all of which would tell you that Jackie Tyler was just a fine, fine woman. Just fine.

              It wasn’t fair, then, that all this had to happen to her: this obsession of her daughter’s and this man that changed his face. It was mad, all of it, and she was at her wit’s end – ready to refuse to harbor any more of this nonsense. That was, before she learned he had a child.

              “How do you do, Mrs. Tyler?” She didn’t believe it, of course. This sweet little girl, _Chance,_ could not possibly be the daughter of the man in the next room, sleeping in a bed that did not belong to him – nor was she the daughter of the leather-clad man he used to be. She wouldn’t believe it. There was only so much silliness that she could tolerate, after all, and Chance’s dark violet eyes, pure black curls, and flushed cheeks did not belong to either of these two intolerable men.

              Jackie smiled, “Just fine, dear. How are you?” It was impossible not to smile at the child – at least, it was for Jackie. She was so like Rose with those wide, wondering eyes.

              Chance looked away, shy. Of course this couldn’t be the Doctor’s child. Who did he think he was fooling?

              “I hate to talk about myself when you have only just invited me into your sitting room and served me tea.” Chance drummed her fingers on her empty glass. Her clipped fingernails made hollow clicking sounds on the porcelain.

              “Oh, quiet, I _did_ ask.” Jackie batted at her arm, playfully. Chance looked up at her in surprise, then let her lips quirk into a slight smile.

              “I suppose it’s alright if you insist.” Chance craned her neck to try and get a look into the slightly open door of her father’s borrowed room.

              Jackie laid a gentle hand over Chance’s smaller one, “Are you worried about him?” She asked quietly.

              Chance nodded, “I think he’ll be OK, though. I wish Rose hadn’t left.” Jackie did too.

              It felt like a coin toss every time she walked out the door. Jackie felt a little better knowing that Mickey had gone with her, but still – She glared at the Doctor’s open door. It was all his fault that Rose was this way now. When Jackie had inquired (not unreasonably) about the origins of the small, and potentially endangered child that had shown up on her doorstep in the wake of her Rose and this brand new man, she had only barely gotten a response.

              “S’his daughter,” Said Rose. She was checking the Doctor’s vital signs. (Two hearts? What sort of crap was this man telling her?)

              “What do you mean that’s his daughter, why haven’t I ever heard of her, then?” Asked Jackie.

              Rose had shrugged (shrugged!), “I dunno, mum, I never really thought about it.” She finished her task and took the stethoscope buds out of her ears.

              “I think I’m going out,” She sighed, before Jackie could even get a word in edgewise, “Mickey asked me to go shopping with him. I don’t think he likes me being cooped up in here all day. Mum? Chance?” From the sitting room, Chance looked up sharply from her laptop.

              “You’ll watch over him, yeah?” Rose looked imploringly at her mother.

              Jackie crossed her arms. She couldn’t very well just say ‘no,’ now could she?

              “You better not leave me for too long, Rose,” She grumbled, “You know I’m already thinking of strangling him.”

              Rose didn’t respond, just kissed her on the cheek and left the room.

              “Be careful, Rose,” Said Chance, as Rose came into the sitting room.

              “I will,” Said Rose, and smiled at her. She had left, and Jackie had stayed, and now here she was: alone with two aliens (for as much as she protested Chance’s parentage, she could not deny that the girl was uniquely inhuman), and sipping tea as if it were only another day.

              “Would you like me to take that from you?” Asked Jackie, returning sharply to reality and gesturing at the girl’s empty teacup.

              “That’s quite alright, Mrs. Tyler, I’m sure I can get it myself,” Said Chance, sweetly.

              “That’s Jackie,” Corrected Jackie, “And I’ll not have you doing dishes in my house.” She quickly swiped hers and Chance’s mugs and went to rinse them.

              “How old are you, sweetheart?” Asked Jackie as she finished rinsing the cups and placed them neatly in the sink.

              Chance didn’t answer. She wasn’t in the sitting room. Jackie looked around, confused, then paused at the sound of near-silent murmuring coming from the Doctor’s room.

              On light feet, Jackie crept to the door of the Doctor’s bedroom and peaked in.

              Chance was sat on the far side of the bed, clasping the hand nearest to her between two of her delicate, pale ones. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes were closed. She said something that rang in Jackie’s ears, despite the low volume. It was like no language she’d ever heard. Jackie backed away from the door, quietly, feeling like an intruder in her own home.

              This story is not about Jackie Tyler.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second chapter, for anyone who enjoyed my first!
> 
> Thank all of you for reading, and please leave reviews!

              Begrudgingly, Chance admitted that the TARDIS would almost definitely be the safest place for her recovering father, but that didn’t make her feel much better about it.

              She had followed them when they had loaded onto her ship, feeling like a coward and clutching the sonic screwdriver in the pocket of her skirt. There was a better way, she was sure there was, but she had been solving these mysteries for less than a decade, where her father had had centuries and centuries. She couldn’t think of the solution, and it was driving her mad.

              She followed Rose willingly into the safety of the TARDIS, only because her father had trusted her, and because secretly Chance loved Rose like a daughter loves her mother, and so she trusted Rose more than she would ever admit.

              It was strange to her, though, to say the least, seeing strangers onboard the TARDIS. Jackie she had been aware of, but never met, and Mickey (whom she had become acquainted with briefly during her first meeting with Rose, and later during the Slitheen incident) just seemed awkward and out of place. The TARDIS was accommodating, but wary, and Chance felt the need to smooth a hand along her control panel to soothe her.

              On the other hand was her father, sprawled haphazardly on the floor again. What was it he had said? It had been very important.

 

              _“Chance, my strong, brave, beautiful girl!” He had kissed the top of her head and pulled her into a tight embrace that she had been helpless but to return. She felt sick with relief and horror. Her father. He was here. She could feel him. But it wasn’t right._

_He had pressed the sonic screwdriver into Chance’s palm before losing consciousness. It was a clear indication of trust, but to Chance it felt uncomfortably like a burden._

 

              That wasn’t important.

 

              _A muffled scream of pain, brain collapsing, Chance could feel it in her own skull, then, “The pilot fish. The pilot fish mean that something, something, something is coming.” His eyes flicked to Chance, standing back from the group slightly. She was frozen, terrified. Not because of any ‘pilot fish,’ of course. The Doctor collapsed again._

 

              That was important.

              There was something her father needed her to understand, but she couldn’t. She had never felt so helpless.

              “Tea, sweetheart?” Jackie roused her from her thoughts. Chance blinked. She was again being offered tea. She felt the obscure need to smile. Well, what good would it do to refuse? Her father had had some saying about that, but it didn’t come to mind.

              “Please.” Jackie smiled back and poured her a cup of tea, feeling very motherly in a way she hadn’t in a very long time.

              “I’ll be back in a minute,” She assured everyone, half-heartedly sealing her thermos of tea and placing it on the console. She thought about touching Chance’s face, or her hand, but didn’t. She walked out the door instead.

Rose released a puff of breath and pulled her knees up to her chest. Chance looked over her shoulder at Mickey, who was fiddling determinedly with the monitor.

“Don’t break anything,” She said, running the tip of her finger over a lever to soothe the increasingly agitated capsule.

“Yeah, yeah,” Said Mickey, “How do you work this thing anyway?” He pressed a button that Chance knew to be entirely useless under the circumstances.

“Here,” Chance hopped off her perch on the console and prodded at a hidden panel underneath the screen. Immediately, an ominous Gallifreyan symbol came into focus on the screen.

“Well what does that mean?” Asked Mickey.

“What does what mean?” Asked Rose, standing from her seat and making her way around the console.

Chance read the symbol twice, forwards and then backwards. She cleared her throat.

“Well, the good news is, the TARDIS is secure.” She folded her hands primly in front of her.

“And the bad news?” Asked Rose, with a sigh.

“We’ve been spotted,” Said Chance delicately.

“How do you mean?” Said Mickey.

“I’ve got to tell my mum,” Said Rose, hurrying to the door.

“Rose!” Chance ran after her several paces, cursing her small legs, “Don’t-“ But she was cut off by Rose’s startled scream.

“Rose?” Mickey darted out of his seat, sending the thermos of tea to the floor with a clatter.

Chance winced, both at the alarming rate of decay their situation had assumed and the TARDIS’s indignant shriek as the tea started to steam in her circuits.

“Mickey!” She snapped, as he sprinted out the door after Rose.

She was in charge as long as it was convenient, she thought bitterly, and rushed out the door behind them, slamming and locking it in her wake.

There was a whirlwind of activity she didn’t bother to try and process and suddenly she was nestled securely between Harriet Jones and Rose Tyler with a hand on either shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Asked one.

“Poor child,” Said the other.

Chance shook them both off and stepped forward brazenly.

“The machinery you’ve captured is mine by right of birth!” She said, “I speak for this planet! Hear me!” Her voice, both pitifully small and unduly strong, rang through the ship.

There was a pause, then a small, inhuman chuckle, followed by wave after wave of raucous laughter.

“Chance, no!” Hissed Rose, barely audible over the cacophony.

Chance straightened, lifting her chin, and waiting for the laughter to ebb. Finally -

“Speak, child.” A young man standing by Harriet spoke, translating, Chance supposed. She didn’t look at him.

She raised her head, tossing back her curls and affixing the Sycorax leader with her startling eyes.

“The people you mean to _enslave_ -“ Her voice, which had started off wavering, sharpened here, “- Have more potential, and more to offer the whole of time and space than you will ever know.”

Chance kept her eye contact with the Sycorax leader, heedless of the warning snarl that curled his lip.

“The world humankind is destined to create is a paradise, a utopia –“ Chance stomped her foot on the solid floor of the ship, silencing the muttering that had begun. “But you wouldn’t know much about utopia, would you?” She released a shuddering breath, then returned to her speech, just as strong as before, “You are a simple people, with simple goals. You seek satisfaction in the here and now, heedless of how it might mar the future. You are a kind that would enslave an intelligent species on a whim, and destroy them just as easily, so listen now!” Chance’s voice reached its pinnacle, loud and jarring, “If you go through with this; if you hurt another human, know that there will be Hell to pay, and you will be paying it to me and to the forces I represent!”

The Sycorax leader let out an enraged roar, slamming his fists on the podium and standing, indignant.

“You think you can threaten us? Infant! Girl!” The translator’s voice wavered, and his grip on the tablet went white-knuckled, “Your pathetic world will be our meal, and your people will watch as we gut it.”

“And as for you, child,” Said the Sycorax.

“And as for you, child,” Said the translator.

“You will know true agony when we skin you and tear you apart!” The Sycorax leader raised his fist in the air, grinning his sharp grin at the cheers of his soldiers.

The translator hesitated, “Hold on, that’s English.” He sounded as if he wasn’t entirely sure.

“I would never dirty my tongue with your primitive bile!” Snapped the Sycorax. Chance was frozen, deathly silent.

“That’s English,” Said Rose, “Can you hear English?” She looked at Mickey.

“Yeah, that’s English,” Mickey confirmed. Chance began to giggle, clapping a hand over her mouth, helplessly.

“Tell me your secret, child!” Demanded the Sycorax.

Chance smothered her laughter, straightening with some difficulty, “Sorry, I got a bit ahead of myself there.”

The TARDIS doors opened with a squeal and a rush of air.

“Did you miss me?” Asked the Doctor, hair a wild brown sweep and dressed in wrinkled, striped pajamas.

A Sycorax guard readied his whip, producing a single, short _crack_ before the Doctor jerked it out of his hands.

The guard cried out indignantly, as another raised his club as if to strike the Doctor. With a single, swift motion, the Doctor took it from his hands and broke it over his knee.

“Mickey, hello!” The Doctor waved happily at Mickey, who gave an awkward little wave in return. Satisfied, the Doctor turned to Harriet Jones.

“Harriet Jones MP for Flydale North. Blimey, it’s like ‘This is Your Life!’” The Doctor grinned mutely at his own joke, then turned sharply once again.

“Chance, my own!” He dropped to his knees and spread his arms invitingly. Chance was upon him before she could think about it, nearly knocking him to the floor with the force behind her embrace. Chance buried her face in his shoulder, laughing and crying indiscriminately.

Gently, the Doctor pulled away, wiping a tear from her cheek and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“You gave them what for, did you?” He asked her, smiling. Chance nodded, smiling back.

“Good,” He said. He kissed her on the cheek and pulled her into another hug.

Yes, Chance thought. Yes, it is.

              Begrudgingly, Chance admitted that the TARDIS would almost definitely be the safest place for her recovering father, but that didn’t make her feel much better about it.

              She had followed them when they had loaded onto her ship, feeling like a coward and clutching the sonic screwdriver in the pocket of her skirt. There was a better way, she was sure there was, but she had been solving these mysteries for less than a decade, where her father had had centuries and centuries. She couldn’t think of the solution, and it was driving her mad.

              She followed Rose willingly into the safety of the TARDIS, only because her father had trusted her, and because secretly Chance loved Rose like a daughter loves her mother, and so she trusted Rose more than she would ever admit.

              It was strange to her, though, to say the least, seeing strangers onboard the TARDIS. Jackie she had been aware of, but never met, and Mickey (whom she had become acquainted with briefly during her first meeting with Rose, and later during the Slitheen incident) just seemed awkward and out of place. The TARDIS was accommodating, but wary, and Chance felt the need to smooth a hand along her control panel to soothe her.

              On the other hand was her father, sprawled haphazardly on the floor again. What was it he had said? It had been very important.

 

              _“Chance, my strong, brave, beautiful girl!” He had kissed the top of her head and pulled her into a tight embrace that she had been helpless but to return. She felt sick with relief and horror. Her father. He was here. She could feel him. But it wasn’t right._

_He had pressed the sonic screwdriver into Chance’s palm before losing consciousness. It was a clear indication of trust, but to Chance it felt uncomfortably like a burden._

 

              That wasn’t important.

 

              _A muffled scream of pain, brain collapsing, Chance could feel it in her own skull, then, “The pilot fish. The pilot fish mean that something, something, something is coming.” His eyes flicked to Chance, standing back from the group slightly. She was frozen, terrified. Not because of any ‘pilot fish,’ of course. The Doctor collapsed again._

 

              That was important.

              There was something her father needed her to understand, but she couldn’t. She had never felt so helpless.

              “Tea, sweetheart?” Jackie roused her from her thoughts. Chance blinked. She was again being offered tea. She felt the obscure need to smile. Well, what good would it do to refuse? Her father had had some saying about that, but it didn’t come to mind.

              “Please.” Jackie smiled back and poured her a cup of tea, feeling very motherly in a way she hadn’t in a very long time.

              “I’ll be back in a minute,” She assured everyone, half-heartedly sealing her thermos of tea and placing it on the console. She thought about touching Chance’s face, or her hand, but didn’t. She walked out the door instead.

Rose released a puff of breath and pulled her knees up to her chest. Chance looked over her shoulder at Mickey, who was fiddling determinedly with the monitor.

“Don’t break anything,” She said, running the tip of her finger over a lever to soothe the increasingly agitated capsule.

“Yeah, yeah,” Said Mickey, “How do you work this thing anyway?” He pressed a button that Chance knew to be entirely useless under the circumstances.

“Here,” Chance hopped off her perch on the console and prodded at a hidden panel underneath the screen. Immediately, an ominous Gallifreyan symbol came into focus on the screen.

“Well what does that mean?” Asked Mickey.

“What does what mean?” Asked Rose, standing from her seat and making her way around the console.

Chance read the symbol twice, forwards and then backwards. She cleared her throat.

“Well, the good news is, the TARDIS is secure.” She folded her hands primly in front of her.

“And the bad news?” Asked Rose, with a sigh.

“We’ve been spotted,” Said Chance delicately.

“How do you mean?” Said Mickey.

“I’ve got to tell my mum,” Said Rose, hurrying to the door.

“Rose!” Chance ran after her several paces, cursing her small legs, “Don’t-“ But she was cut off by Rose’s startled scream.

“Rose?” Mickey darted out of his seat, sending the thermos of tea to the floor with a clatter.

Chance winced, both at the alarming rate of decay their situation had assumed and the TARDIS’s indignant shriek as the tea started to steam in her circuits.

“Mickey!” She snapped, as he sprinted out the door after Rose.

She was in charge as long as it was convenient, she thought bitterly, and rushed out the door behind them, slamming and locking it in her wake.

There was a whirlwind of activity she didn’t bother to try and process and suddenly she was nestled securely between Harriet Jones and Rose Tyler with a hand on either shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Asked one.

“Poor child,” Said the other.

Chance shook them both off and stepped forward brazenly.

“The machinery you’ve captured is mine by right of birth!” She said, “I speak for this planet! Hear me!” Her voice, both pitifully small and unduly strong, rang through the ship.

There was a pause, then a small, inhuman chuckle, followed by wave after wave of raucous laughter.

“Chance, no!” Hissed Rose, barely audible over the cacophony.

Chance straightened, lifting her chin, and waiting for the laughter to ebb. Finally -

“Speak, child.” A young man standing by Harriet spoke, translating, Chance supposed. She didn’t look at him.

She raised her head, tossing back her curls and affixing the Sycorax leader with her startling eyes.

“The people you mean to _enslave_ -“ Her voice, which had started off wavering, sharpened here, “- Have more potential, and more to offer the whole of time and space than you will ever know.”

Chance kept her eye contact with the Sycorax leader, heedless of the warning snarl that curled his lip.

“The world humankind is destined to create is a paradise, a utopia –“ Chance stomped her foot on the solid floor of the ship, silencing the muttering that had begun. “But you wouldn’t know much about utopia, would you?” She released a shuddering breath, then returned to her speech, just as strong as before, “You are a simple people, with simple goals. You seek satisfaction in the here and now, heedless of how it might mar the future. You are a kind that would enslave an intelligent species on a whim, and destroy them just as easily, so listen now!” Chance’s voice reached its pinnacle, loud and jarring, “If you go through with this; if you hurt another human, know that there will be Hell to pay, and you will be paying it to me and to the forces I represent!”

The Sycorax leader let out an enraged roar, slamming his fists on the podium and standing, indignant.

“You think you can threaten us? Infant! Girl!” The translator’s voice wavered, and his grip on the tablet went white-knuckled, “Your pathetic world will be our meal, and your people will watch as we gut it.”

“And as for you, child,” Said the Sycorax.

“And as for you, child,” Said the translator.

“You will know true agony when we skin you and tear you apart!” The Sycorax leader raised his fist in the air, grinning his sharp grin at the cheers of his soldiers.

The translator hesitated, “Hold on, that’s English.” He sounded as if he wasn’t entirely sure.

“I would never dirty my tongue with your primitive bile!” Snapped the Sycorax. Chance was frozen, deathly silent.

“That’s English,” Said Rose, “Can you hear English?” She looked at Mickey.

“Yeah, that’s English,” Mickey confirmed. Chance began to giggle, clapping a hand over her mouth, helplessly.

“Tell me your secret, child!” Demanded the Sycorax.

Chance smothered her laughter, straightening with some difficulty, “Sorry, I got a bit ahead of myself there.”

The TARDIS doors opened with a squeal and a rush of air.

“Did you miss me?” Asked the Doctor, hair a wild brown sweep and dressed in wrinkled, striped pajamas.

A Sycorax guard readied his whip, producing a single, short _crack_ before the Doctor jerked it out of his hands.

The guard cried out indignantly, as another raised his club as if to strike the Doctor. With a single, swift motion, the Doctor took it from his hands and broke it over his knee.

“Mickey, hello!” The Doctor waved happily at Mickey, who gave an awkward little wave in return. Satisfied, the Doctor turned to Harriet Jones.

“Harriet Jones MP for Flydale North. Blimey, it’s like ‘This is Your Life!’” The Doctor grinned mutely at his own joke, then turned sharply once again.

“Chance, my own!” He dropped to his knees and spread his arms invitingly. Chance was upon him before she could think about it, nearly knocking him to the floor with the force behind her embrace. Chance buried her face in his shoulder, laughing and crying indiscriminately.

Gently, the Doctor pulled away, wiping a tear from her cheek and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“You gave them what for, did you?” He asked her, smiling. Chance nodded, smiling back.

“Good,” He said. He kissed her on the cheek and pulled her into another hug.

Yes, Chance thought. Yes, it is.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter of the first episode! Let me know what you think.

It had been a fight, a real one, with swords and all. Chance had never seen her father fight quite like that – had no idea he could – and was awfully glad to see that she recognized his manners, even in the midst of a battle. It had been reassuring, like her father was finally home, in an all new body.

              Then had come the betrayal. She knew fully well, of course, that he _could_ kill, and, more importantly, that he _would_ if it secured the safety of Rose and herself. Still, she was shocked. It seemed she would never get those alien screams out of her head. Falling, to her, seemed like such a terrible way to die.

              All that was alright, though. Everything was alright, because the Doctor was back, all the way, and Chance had missed him so much more than she realized.

              They were just off Bloxom Road, according to Mickey, when the Sycorax craft turned tail and fled. Chance didn’t notice that so much. She had her head buried in her father’s chest, saying something embarrassing as he ran a hand through her hair, mumbling words she wasn’t listening to. She was being overly emotional. She supposed that was normal when you grew up with humans, but she was still a Timelord and she needed to pull herself together.

              Chance pulled away with a sniffle and gave the Doctor a watery smile.

              “Good job,” She said. The Doctor laughed loudly, picking her up in his arms and swinging her around.

              “Me?” He placed her on the ground and pressed their foreheads together. Chance felt his consciousness give a giddy flutter. He was proud, she realized, of her. She smiled to herself and pulled away from the mental contact, instead burying her head in his shoulder.

              “I didn’t do anything,” She assured the side of his neck.

              The Doctor sighed and squeezed her lightly.

              “If you believe that, you really are hopeless,” He said.

              Chance opened her mouth to protest, then pulled away, startled.

              It was a sound she knew all too well: laser fire. She watched helplessly as it arced across the sky, colliding with the retreating ship with an explosion that ignited the blue, blue sky.

              In the recesses of her mind, where she wasn’t a small, frozen child on a planet that wasn’t her own, she ran a quick series of calculations, and reached an estimate that she didn’t like. Dimly, she hoped she was wrong, but one thing was certain: the loss of life was staggering.

              On instinct, she turned to look at her father. He had straightened, jaw set. There was a fire in his eyes that boded well for no one. There had been no hesitation when he condemned the leader to his doom, yet the death of the survivors struck him, enraged him, and made him vengeful. Innocent or not, he had let them go, and their deaths were, in his mind, a crime of the highest order.

              “That was murder,” He snarled.

              “That was defense,” Said Harriet Jones, and what little sanity was left in the moment seemed to drain away just like that.

              “Harriet?” Chance fixed her round, violet eyes on the Prime Minister. Harriet wavered for a moment at the intensity of the girl’s betrayed stare. She felt a responsibility to this child. They had history. She set her jaw and stood straighter. She wouldn’t meet Chance’s eyes.

              “It’s adapted from alien technology. A ship that fell to Earth ten years ago,” She explained.

              “But they were leaving!” Said the Doctor.

              Harriet shook her head, “You said yourself, Doctor, they’d go back to the stars and tell others about the Earth. I’m sorry, Doctor, but you’re not here all the time.” Harriet looked just slightly imploring, “You come and go. It happened today. Mr. Llewellyn and the Major, they were murdered. They died right in front of me while you were sleeping. In which case we have to defend ourselves.”

              The Doctor opened his mouth to speak again. Chance cleared her throat, affixing him with a look when he turned to meet her eyes.

              “It’s over,” She said. Nothing would excuse Harriet’s crime, but it was over and now nothing could be done.

              The Doctor looked at her, swallowed, then nodded tightly. He freed his hand and instead wound an arm around his daughter’s thin shoulders.

              Chance closed her eyes tightly, and it occurred to the Doctor (not for the first time) that he didn’t deserve her. He looked up at Harriet.

              He said nothing, only looked, then –

              “Tylers, Mickey!” He waved his free arm in a ‘follow me’ gesture, and started to walk away.

 

 

              “Why?” He asked, later, once they were all nestled in at Jackie’s flat. He had picked out an all new outfit from the TARDIS’s expansive (infinite) selection, and he thought he looked rather dashing. Rose had told him so, and Chance had given him the all-clear, so it couldn’t be all that bad.

              “Hm?” Asked Chance. She was curled against his side in the sitting room, half asleep, it seemed, but she couldn’t fool him. He supposed she was listening intently to conversations throughout the flat. He couldn’t fathom that anything Jackie had to talk about was terribly interesting.

              “Harriet,” He clarified, “Why did you stop me?”

              Chance looked up, affixing him with those staggering violet eyes, “It was over. There was no point in ripping apart old friendships over something that couldn’t be fixed.” She pulled his old leather jacket tighter around her. She had found it laid properly over the back of a chair in her room, quickly thanked the TARDIS, and immediately  pulled it on, pointedly neglecting to notice that it fell well past her knees.

              “I think she’s a pretty good prime minister, anyway. As long as she doesn’t pull another stunt like that, it might be better for everyone if we leave her in her place.”

              The Doctor thought about that. He wouldn’t forgive Harriet, but he thought he might be able to forget, and he was glad Chance had saved him that option at least.

              “Thank you,” He said. He kissed the top of her head and smiled when she shoved him away.

              “I love you,” He said, “Have I mentioned that since I changed?”

              Chance shrugged, “You’re not that different.” She stood and stretched, “But no, you haven’t, and I love you too, I guess.” She smiled slightly, “You’re alright. I’m gonna go have Christmas with Rose now.”

              The Doctor smiled back and stood, “I’ll go with you, if you don’t mind.”

              Chance shook her head, “Not at all.”

              Years later, the Doctor would realize it was Chance’s very first Christmas, and he would nearly drop a ball of solid titanium on his head from the shock of it. He supposed, even though no one had bothered to mention it to him, that it had been a very good very first Christmas.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think!

              Chance had a shirt that said “I love NNY.” Or rather, there was a heart in the middle of it that took the place of love, in order to keep the whole thing short, sweet, and marketable. She had convinced her father – a stern-looking man in a leather jacket, at the time – to buy it for her when she was much smaller, and only barely 6 years old. She hadn’t known precisely why she wanted it then, except that it seemed very normal and silly, and she thought that it was brilliant.

              Chance was 9 now, and quickly developing a sense of irony. To her, the shirt had become a joke to be savored, and now when she thought back to the way her father had rolled his eyes in exasperation, it made her laugh so hard she nearly managed to forget that the man who had raised her would never again see her through his own eyes, or speak to her in his own words.

              Chance made it a point to wear her tacky, beloved shirt on the day that Rose discovered New Earth. The TARDIS had tailored it to fit her perfectly, despite the difference in age, and Chance sent her a quick thank you for it, which the craft dismissed, and countered with a suggestion to get the Hell out and experience the beautiful day before the old girl had to take matters into her own hands.

              Chance said fine, she was going, look, she was opening the doors, leaving now, good bye, would the TARDIS like her to tell dad anything? She was heading that way anyways, so -

              The TARDIS slammed the doors in her face.

              Gleefully, Chance skipped over the sweet-smelling applegrass as it curled gently to accommodate the breeze blowing over its stalks and tousling little Time Ladies’ hair. The sky was full of soft, gray clouds, pierced through with heavenly daggers of light, which glinted, diamond-like and blinding, off the towering structures of New New York.

              Chance was awfully glad her ship had a sense of beauty.

              Rose and the Doctor were laughing loudly when Chance came over the hill.

              “What’s funny?” She asked, with a smile.

              “Oh, Chance, there you are!” Rose rolled over onto her stomach propped her chin on her hands. “Will you tell your father there’s no way we’re in ‘New New York?’” She shot the Doctor a look that said: ‘Highly amusing, sir, but now it’s time to hear the truth.’

              Chance looked down at her shirt. It _did_ in fact say NNY, didn’t it? It seemed to. She looked back up at Rose. The Doctor started to laugh again. After a moment, Rose joined him.

              Some time later they were still laughing, all three of them, about something entirely different, and Chance was stretched on her father’s jacket next to them, absorbing the occasional sunbeam.

              She looked up at the glittering sky and tried to commit the moment to memory. The smile that was beginning to cramp her muscles painfully, but that kept being renewed; a harmony of three kinds of laughter, and the intermittent gusts of wind in her ears; the smoothness of the coat on one hand, and the coarse grass on the other. She tried to bottle the overflow of happiness that filled her hearts to the brim. She had a feeling she might need it very soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And my fifth. I'll be in school before the next one comes out, so I may not have as much time to write. I'll try and let you know if I'm going to miss a day. Otherwise, updates are on Fridays. Thank you to everyone who has continued to read my story. I'd love to know what you think.

Something Chance really appreciated about Rose the regular 21st century girl was her utter lack of technological understanding. When the elevator doors slid open with that futuristic grace and the two girls stepped inside, Rose looked around for buttons while Chance smiled lightly and cleared her throat.

              “Ward 26,” She stated, clearly and coolly in a voice that she reserved expressly for talking with machines, and the elevator doors slid closed with an agreeable hum.

              Rose fidgeted uncomfortably. She was already beginning to get a bad feeling. She’d lost the Doctor only moments ago, to an elevator that refused to wait, and it was beginning to sink in that she was lost on an alien world with a girl less than half her age.

              Chance touched her hand gently, “You’re overreacting,” She said, gently.

              Rose smiled sheepishly, “Sorry. It’s just that things tend not to go very well when I get split up from the Doctor.”

              Chance shrugged, “You get used to it. There’s a whole wide universe out there, after all.”

              “Commencing stage 1 disinfection,” A monotone voice sighed out from the walls.

              “Oh, I forgot to warn you.” Chance dropped her hand back to her side.

              “Warn me about what?” Asked Rose, and was promptly drenched as the walls spouted white jets of water from every direction.

              “Sorry.” Chance smoothed her soaked hair back and out of her face.

              “It’s fine,” Said Rose, shakily, and spat water onto the ground.

              “The blow-dryer’s a bit better,” Chance reassured her. It was.

              On the other hand, their final destination did not appear to be Ward 26, nor was it any meaningful part of a hospital that Chance had ever seen. She scented the air suspiciously. There was only rust and tainted water, which she could have guessed just from looking around the place. It reminded her of a sewer, and there was no doubt in her mind that they were deep underground. She cast a sidelong glance at Rose, and was pleased to find that she seemed equally confused.

              “The children are clean,” Said a figure, stepping out from the shadows. Chance felt Rose jump at his sudden appearance. His skin was sickly pale, and patterned in dark red – a clone. Chance clenched a fist at her side. She was fond of clones, as she generally was of the underdogs. Their trade was illegal, and they were almost exclusively marketed as slaves. Unsurprisingly, her first instinct was to try and help, but with clones, there was a tendency to be far to loyal to people who were very dangerous.

              “This way,” Said the clone, and disappeared again.

              Rose picked a metal bar off the floor.

              “What are you going to do with that?” Asked Chance, warily.

              “Defend myself. What do you think?” Said Rose, and hefted her weapon onto her shoulder.

              _It won’t do you much good,_ thought Chance. She followed after Rose anyway.

              The clone led them to another room, just as dingy as the last. Chance snapped to attention at the click-clacking of an old film reel. It was technology out of time, and her skin crawled with the wrongness of it.

              On screen, a blonde woman moved and spoke, addressing someone out-of-frame. She had a voice that Chance recognized, but that she couldn’t quite place.

              “Wait a minute, that’s-“ Started Rose.

              “Cassandra!” Chance blurted. She looked around for the woman (or what was left of her) and the lights whirred to life on cue.

              “Hello girls,” Said Cassandra. Her 2-dimensional lips were pulled into a thin smile, and the clone was standing at her side, proud of himself, Chance supposed.

              “Don’t you come anywhere near us, Cassandra.” Rose raised her bar threateningly, falling into a fighting stance.

              “Why? What do you think I’m going to do? Flap you to death?” Asked Cassandra, plaintively. Chance thought that was something of an excellent point.

              “Yeah,” Said Rose, a little unsure, “But what about Golem?”

              “Rose!” Chance hit her lightly on the arm, “Rude!”

              “Quite right,” Said Cassandra, “He’s my pet.” She looked fondly to her side, then her eyes snapped back to Chance like a whiplash.

              “And you, little miss Whatever-You-Are! Where were you when Chip was scouting? We didn’t even know you were here until the three of you entered the hospital,” Cassandra eyed her distastefully.

              Chance glared, “That wouldn’t really have been a problem if you hadn’t been spying on us, now would it?” Cassandra ignored her.

              “I’m afraid you’ve thrown a wrench in my plan, child.” She smiled malignantly, “But you may have just given me an edge.”

              Rose stepped between them, eyes shining.

              “You don’t touch her, you witch!” She snapped.

              “Chip!” Snarled Cassandra. The clone jumped at Rose with unprecedented speed and strength, knocking her to the side just as a force field appeared around her, encapsulating her in an electric prison. Rose made as if to hit the bars, then thought better of it. She stomped her foot instead.

              Chance summoned all the dignity and venom of her 9 years into the glare she affixed Cassandra with.

              “What do you want, Cassandra?” She spat.

              Cassandra chuckled darkly, “Just be still, won’t you? Chip!” She called again. Chip straightened sharply, “Activate the psychograft.”

              “Yes mistress!” Chip bounded towards the controls and flipped a switch, sending Cassandra bursting into bright energy.

              Chance instinctually resisted as she felt her arms seized by another force field. She jerked away from the energy Cassandra had become, but couldn’t stop her from slipping in through her nose, her ears, cramming Chance into the back of her own mind and settling in the forefront. She screamed, but it couldn’t escape her lips, only resonating in her skull.

              _Hush!_ Said Cassandra. She threw a psychic net over Chance’s writhing consciousness. Chance thrashed and tore it to shreds.

              _Invader!_ Screamed Chance’s lizard brain, from deep down beneath her rational thought, _No, no, no, no, out, out, out, out!_ She could feel her body twitching, and now that scream Cassandra had captured moments ago slipped out and she could hear it through ears that she had lost control of.

              _Stop it!_ Hissed Cassandra. Chance could feel the panic in her words and she seized it, forming it into something sharp that she could launch at the fear centers in Cassandra’s brain.

              Chance heard another shriek, but this time it wasn’t her own.

              _Get out!_ Chance demanded. She was in control again. She latched onto her primal terror and buried it down deep where she could siphon its power but refuse to do its bidding.

              _I can’t!_ Screamed Cassandra.

              Chance rose like a tidal wave, building to a deafening roar of _GET OUT!_

It felt like she was pushing forward, filling all the space she’d been displaced from, and Cassandra was gripping onto wet sand to stay, only to find it was falling away, being dragged from underneath her clawing fingers.

              Chance spat Cassandra back into the empty air, disoriented and blind with pain. The atoms of Cassandra’s being rushed into the first body they could find, and Rose collapsed to the ground in her electric cage.

              “Mistress!” Chip screamed and deactivated the force field, rushing towards Rose’s limp body.

              Rose gasped in breath and accepted Chip’s help gratefully.

              “What-“ She started, “How-“

              “Get out of her!” Chance tried to scream, but her voice was hoarse, exhausted. Her head fell back against the wall and she squeezed her eyes shut.

              Rose pursed her lips, clinging to Chip for support.

              “No one escapes the psychograft,” She said, “That’s the point. What are you?”

              “Cassandra, get out of her body or I swear –“ Chance funneled all her remaining energy into the pulse that erupted from her strained consciousness. She’d never exerted as much psychic energy as it took to banish Cassandra, and she felt stretched to the limit. If her bluff was called, Chance would be out of options.

              Instead, Rose looked afraid. She swallowed, examining her own choices, it would seem, and looked from Chip back to Chance.

              “Let’s make a deal,” She said, delicately.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School's started, so work on the story might be a bit slower. I'll still post every Friday (hopefully), but there may be less content. Thanks to everyone for sticking with me anyway!

              The deal went as follows:

 

  1. Cassandra would find a new and permanent host at the earliest possible opportunity. This was Chance’s foremost demand, as she refused to negotiate with anyone in possession of Rose’s body, other than Rose. Luckily, the issue was resolved almost as quickly: Chip offered his own body up to Cassandra. Legally, Chance was forced to admit, there was no issue of consent, since Clones were still considered property, and Chip insisted that he understood and accepted Cassandra’s reign over his physical existence, because she was his true and rightful mistress. Chance fought bitterly over this, threatening again to use her gradually strengthening psychic force, and yet, seeing no alternative, she eventually conceded and allowed Cassandra to pass out of Rose’s body and into Chip’s.
  2. Having concluded a veritable paragraph of abuse directed at Cassandra’s general state of existence, Rose insisted on knowing what _exactly_ Cassandra’s plan had been and just how body-snatching would have made it all come together. Cassandra conceded to this on the one condition that –
  3. The Doctor would not be made aware of her presence in the building or in her current body. Chance and Rose agreed easily to this, and pointed out that if Cassandra failed to abide by points a and b (namely: not to leave her current body, and to give a full and detailed account of her scheme), then they would be left with no choice but to make the Doctor aware of her. That sounded reasonable to Cassandra, who seemed to be much more agreeable now that she was in possession of a safe and welcoming body. Cassandra opened Chip’s mouth and began to fulfill the rest of her bargain.



“It was just something I heard from the cats, you understand, the rest was more of a feeling.” Cassandra looked about slyly, then leaned in and began to whisper, as if anyone was paying any attention to the three of them standing in an angry triangle in the forgotten and musty room in the lowest floors of the hospital.

“They spoke about ‘Intensive Care,’ but if you look on the Outlines, there’s no such place!”

“Are you sure?” Asked Rose. Cassandra glared at her.

“Of course I’m sure,” She snapped, “You think I didn’t check? Over and over? Again and again, just to be sure?” Cassandra straightened, annoyed, “There’s no intensive care in this building, which meant the cats were hiding something.”

“What was it?” Asked Chance. She had never been one to suppress her own questions, and now she was deadly curious.

Cassandra scoffed, “Well I don’t _know._ That’s precisely what I was trying to figure out.” She sneered, “I suppose you didn’t get your father’s brains.”

Chance hadn’t, actually. She’d gotten her mother’s, which was objectively far more impressive. She decided not to bring it up.

“You were looking for an in, then,” She said, instead.

Cassandra nodded, “And that’s just when you showed up.” She looked dubiously at Rose, “I thought it was just you and the Doctor at first. That was good enough for me, because the Doctor’s got brains, and you’ve got…” Cassandra hesitated.

“And I’ve got…?” Said Rose, crossing her arms.

Cassandra sighed, “I wanted to say looks, but that’s not really –“ Cassandra swept a glance over her, “Well, it’s certainly a look, but it’s not terribly eye-catching, you understand.”

Rose’s jaw fell slightly open.

“Well, you understand.” Cassandra shook her head, reorganizing her thoughts, “I could’ve done with just the two of you, but then, I hadn’t realized you had the girl with you.” Cassandra smiled sweetly, an expression that might have been nice in her old body, before she’d had it skinned and preserved. Chip’s teeth were too yellow, and his lips were thin and clay-like, stretching awkwardly around them, “And, of course, she had brains, looks, and the added advantage of being a child.” Cassandra’s grin twisted itself into something far worse, “Children get away with anything, you know.”

“So you were going to use our bodies to convince the Doctor to uncover the hospital’s secrets?” Asked Chance, abruptly. Cassandra nodded.

“So?” Said Rose, “What then?”

Cassandra looked suddenly nervous, “Well, I was going to release them to the world, I suppose.”

“Just out of the goodness of your heart?” Snipped Chance. She crossed her arms and set her jaw so that, for a moment, Rose swore she looked just like the old Doctor.

“Well of course not,” Huffed Cassandra, “Do I really have to spell it out? They were going to have to pay me,” She sniffed, and tilted her chin up arrogantly, “Or I would tell everyone.”

Rose shook her head, “You’re unbelievable, Cassandra. What if they were hurting people?”

“What difference would it make?” Growled Cassandra, “It seems like that’s all you care about: who’s getting hurt and who’s doing the hurting. These ‘people’ are all going to die anyway, and they hardly even care! What difference does it make when it happens?”

“All the difference!” Said Rose and Chance. Cassandra just rolled her eyes.

“We’ll help you find it, Cassandra,” Said Rose. She cast a questioning look at Chance, just to be sure, then turned back to Cassandra’s hopeful expression, “But you won’t get your money. Whatever it is, we’ll put an end to the secrecy, and anything else we don’t like –“

“But we’ll find you a home,” Chance interjected, “We won’t leave you with nothing.”

Cassandra relaxed a little. It was better than the alternative, and at least she would be safe from the Doctor and the repercussions of her crimes. Still, she wondered if she could perhaps get a bit more out of this bargain than she had thought. In the back of her mind, a plan was taking shape.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidentally posted the wrong chapter. Forgive me. This is the next one. Please leave a comment.

              Cassandra wouldn’t make for a very impressive cosmic time-vigilante, was something that Chance never thought she’d actually have to acknowledge, despite its clear validity. There were the standard reasons, of course – selfishness, vanity, and a lack of empathy were all traits that neither the Doctor nor the TARDIS could bare to lug around – but more than that, there was something deeper. A sense you got from looking at a person that was just… wrong. Cassandra had that, apparently no matter what body was in, and that was what made the Doctor finally notice her when the three of them had made it back to ward 27.

              “Who’s that?” The Doctor paused in his scolding (“How long can it take to find ward 27?”), confused and a little distasteful.

              Chance and Rose both started talking at once.

              “His name’s Chip!” Said Rose, “We found him in the cellar.”

              “He’s a clone, so he was here with his owner,” Chance explained, “We thought we’d help him -”

              “Right!” Said the Doctor, cutting off both girls, “Right! Yes!” He held out a hand to Cassandra in casual invitation, and pumped it vigorously when she accepted, “Good to meet you, I’m the Doctor!” He smiled brightly, still ferociously shaking her hand.

              “Yes, well, I’m Chip,” Said Cassandra, looking dazed when the Doctor finally released her hand. She smiled back, uncertainly.

              “Did you find out who sent the message, dad?” Asked Chance, who had somehow appeared at the Doctor’s left elbow without ever seeming to have moved.

              “Hmm?” Asked the Doctor, “Oh! Yes, would you like to see him?”

              What a silly question, of course she wanted to see the man who had caused her so much trouble and pain, but she simply nodded and let the Doctor whisk her away to the far side of the ward, where in a foggy tank, seemingly locked in a deep sleep was –

              “The Face of Boe!” Chance darted forward and placed her hands on the glass, looking in at his massive head and closed eyes, darting restlessly under the surface of his thin lids. She frowned, “What’s wrong with him?”

              “He’s old,” Said the Doctor. He knelt quietly beside her, and waited for the rest of the questions to come. How old, she wanted to know, and could they fix it, and if not, then why. Later, the Doctor knew, there would be more questions, and these would be about Gallifrey, and why they didn’t grow old like everyone else. It was lucky she had enough sense not to ask these things outside, but it filled him with a sense of foreboding every time.

              “Am I supposed to know who this is?” Asked Cassandra, out of the corner of her mouth. Rose glared, and went to sit cross-legged by the Doctor. She hesitated for a moment, then let her head lean on his shoulder. The Doctor tensed, then relaxed, sparing her a brief glance out of the corner of his eye.

              Cassandra fidgeted for a minute or so, then cleared her throat. All three time-travelers turned to look at her. She straightened, strangely nervous under the power of their combined gaze.

              “I meant to tell you, there’s something –“ Cassandra began.

              “Oh!” Chance interrupted her with a bright, excited expression, all traces of concern momentarily banished from her face. She leaned in and lowered her voice. A secret was being shared.

              “We’ve discovered a conspiracy,” She whispered.

              “A conspiracy?” Asked the Doctor, lowering his voice in turn, “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter I accidentally posted early. For those of you who have already read it, I'm posting the next chapter immediately. Please leave a comment, they really help.

              Chance chewed on a strand of her hair. Waiting for the Doctor to do something was the most agonizing part of any trip, hands down. He was tapping something into a control panel, looking determined, while Cassandra peered vigilantly over his left shoulder, and Rose stood back, drumming her fingers against her crossed arms and breathing sighs through her mouth.

              “Search the sub-frame,” Cassandra suggested.

              “What if the subframe’s locked?” Asked the Doctor.

              Cassandra sighed, as if she had been asked to explain something very simple to someone very dull. “Try the installation protocol,” She said.

              “Yeah, of course,” Said the Doctor. He focused more intensely on the screen and tried not to feel stupid, “Hold on.” He swiped the screen over with his sonic screwdriver.

              Chance looked up, startled, as the nearest wall slid open in near silence.

              “That’s intensive care then…” She half-asked. She didn’t want to sound uncertain in public (that would’ve been humiliating), but she did want confirmation.

              Instead, the Doctor said, “Certainly looks intensive,” and took off his glasses, which didn’t help at all.

 

              Chance wanted to go first, of course. Exploring brave new worlds was, after all, her ‘thing.’ The Doctor said no, dead-pan and final, and that was the end of that. Instead, Cassandra went first, followed by Rose, and then Chance and the Doctor at the end of the line. They clunked down a metal staircase and into a circular tomb that seemed to extend forever, both upwards and downwards, where the only light came from the sickly green doors lining the walls.

              Rose looked around suspiciously. Cassandra had been right, then. Something was going on in intensive care; something sinister. Cassandra felt smug. Yes. Yes, she _had_ been right, and now what was she going to do? She would have to find out what was behind those doors, for one. Maybe, just maybe, it was something she could use against the Doctor and his gang. Chance hopped on the balls of her feet, excited and wary. She was in her element, and that was good, because that meant her body was already responding to stimulus she’d learned at much too young an age. She felt faster, smarter, and braver. She flung open the nearest door with an extravagant gesture, and immediately all the good feelings were washed out by dread.

              She clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle a shriek. The figure in the vault was corpse-like. Pale and rotting and nearly emaciated. Chance had seen corpses before. Sometimes they looked perfectly intact, almost as if they were sleeping. Sometimes the only thing that made them terrifying was that she _knew_ they were dead. This thing was terrifying because it was alive.

Barely, but it was alive.

              The Doctor steadied her with a hand on her shoulder, and looked into the cell. He hitched in a breath and closed the door, then braced himself on one knee and looked into Chance’s eyes.

              “Alright?” He asked. Chance nodded silently, hand still clamped firmly over her mouth.

              “Are you sure?”

              “I’m fine, dad.” Chance nudged him off and took a shuddering breath, letting her hand fall at her side, “It just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

              The Doctor nodded and stood to open another vault. Chance looked up, but the door blocked her view.

              “Is it the same?” She asked, but she didn’t need an answer.

              “What are they?” Asked Cassandra, disgusted.

              “They’re people,” Rose answered, automatically. She wasn’t looking at Cassandra. She was looking at the person in the cell, “What did they do, Doctor?”

              “Infected,” He said, “They’re all infected.”

              “Infected with what?” Asked Rose.

              “Everything,” He said, “Everything.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is! Again, comments are greatly appreciated.

              Sick. It was sick, in the worst possible sense of the word. All the bodies, the suffering. It was repulsive; everything that Chance hated about human nature. She could feel the pain from the flesh, like a swarm of bees raging in her skull, and she wanted to scream.

              “What do we do?” She asked, because she needed there to be a solution, but for the life of her she couldn’t see it.

              The Doctor was thinking, mind racing like a fast-moving stream. Chance allowed herself to be lulled by the swiftness of his thoughts, then she put up her walls and retreated behind them, barricaded in a quiet place where she could think.

              “What do you mean they’ve got everything?” Asked Rose, “Why would anyone do that?”

              “They’re lab rats,” Said the Doctor, “No wonder the sister’s have got a cure for everything – they’ve got the ultimate research laboratory, a human farm.”

              Cassandra nodded like that was alright to her. Rose looked around again, horrified.

              “What do we do?” She repeated Chance’s question as if it were a prayer.

              “Nothing,” Said a timid voice from behind them. They spun to look. The cat averted her eyes shamefully under their searching gazes, “We’ve helped so many people –“

              “This is helping?” The Doctor gestured around at the rows and rows of cells, “People are dying, Novice Hame.”

              “And others are living because of their sacrifice!” Said Novice Hame, “Don’t you see? It’s for the greater cause.” She didn’t sound terribly convinced.

              The Doctor opened his mouth to speak and Chance’s hand flew to the arm of his jacket. She gripped it, hard, and the Doctor looked down at her in confusion.

              “Novice Hame,” She said, “You know what you’re doing is wrong.”

              “How can it be wrong?” The nun insisted, “Think of all the lives we’ve saved; all the people who are healthy and happy, because of us!”

              “And we applaud you for that!” Chance clapped her hands briskly for extra emphasis, “But Novice Hame, you’ve made these people your test subjects. You keep them sick and imprisoned their whole lives. If you truly think that’s worth it, go ahead, do… whatever it is you think you need to do. Or, maybe, you can come with us, help us find a way to end it once and for all. We _can_ finish this. Really, we can, but it’s up to you.”

              Novice Hame buried her face in her paws, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

              “I know,” Said Chance.

              “I always wanted to help people, I –“ She shook her head, “I can’t betray the sisterhood.”

              “So don’t,” Said Chance, “Give us 10 minutes, 5 minutes, whatever you can. We’ll fix things.” She looked cautiously up at her father for approval. He gave her a weak smile, “We’ll do our best, anyway.”

              Novice Hame collected herself, nodded without meeting anyone’s eyes, and strode out of the room.

              Rose released a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Cassandra considered the latest development. It seemed she was running out of time to execute her plan (not that she exactly had a plan, but she wasn’t just going to sit idly by while these fools cheated her out of her bribe money). The Doctor and Chance were looking at each other.

              “I was going to shame her,” He said, honestly.

              Chance blinked. She had suspected as much, but she found it was entirely different to hear him admit it aloud. She opened her mouth to speak.

              “Your idea was better,” He said before she could. Chance flushed a little with pride, then cleared her throat and tried to regain her focus.

              “5 minutes,” She reminded him, “What’s the plan?”

              The Doctor smiled, “I have no idea. Isn’t that just the best?”

              Of course it was. What other option was there?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes, this will be my first late post. This chapter should have been posted on Friday, but it wasn't. The reason for this is that I am forgetful and lazy. Here it is now, in all of its (sort of/not really) glory. I hope you enjoy it - the one person who is still reading my stuff.

Chance was retrieving supplies before the alarm went off.

“Well,” She said to herself, “That sounds about right,” And stole a bag full of bright green liquid from an IV stand that no one seemed to be using.

When she returned to intensive care, the first thing she noticed was that it had been swarmed. The catwalks were lined with people in hospital gowns, all crammed into the limited space and gazing deliriously around as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Could the patients have gotten here so quickly? Chance didn’t think so. She hadn’t seen anyone heading this way in the chaos of the alarm bells, and yet here they all were. Was she missing something?

Ah yes, now she saw. The rows and rows of doors had been thrown open, and now their contents were roaming free.

_Lovely_ , she thought, but then, it was too early for the Doctor to have executed their carefully constructed plan, wasn’t it? A closer look, and she could see the sickly hue of the prisoners’ skin, the scars and boils that marred and obscured their faces. Someone (and she wasn’t saying who – it could have been any paper-thin ego-maniac in a stolen body) had released the people, still half-dead and riddled with disease, to terrorize and infect their captors. Chance gave the room a psychic once-over before she backed away. Empty of Time Lords, it seemed, and humans, although the flesh’s signature was similar enough that she could have been wrong. She felt the residual energy of something newly dead, too, and she couldn’t help but wonder – before she shivered and ran back out into the hall.

_You shouldn’t worry,_ she told herself, because she could feel the tickle in the back of her mind that meant another Gallifreyan was out there, and the Doctor wasn’t nearly that easy to kill.

Except when he had been, on that satellite, when the Daleks attacked. He had been awfully easy to kill then, hadn’t he? But that was different. He wasn’t going to let it happen again.

Chance wished that her hearts would stop thudding inside her chest.

She reached out towards that tickle, knowing fully well that it was out of her reach, and started to follow it, down, and down, and down some more until, with some trepidation, she realized that she was nearing Cassandra’s lair.

She was close enough, now, that she could nudge at the Doctor’s iron-clad psychic walls, and feel them relax at her touch. Some relief seeped through, and concern, that Chance appeased slightly with a promise that she knew what had happened and she was safe. They arranged a meeting place, and the Doctor chewed her out for not telling him about Cassandra, and they separated and started to head back up.

Chance looked up at the stairs she’d just run down and considered how many stories she’d have to climb. She sighed.

She hadn’t made it halfway when she found her way barred by a group of patients in white hospital gowns.

“Save us,” Said one, and reached an arm towards her.

Chance took a step back, both to stay well out of range of the infected, and as an instinctual reaction to the misery that radiated off of these people in waves.

“Please,” Said a girl who looked upsettingly like Rose. Chance backed away again, feeling more regretful this time.

“I’m sorry,” She said, and was hit by pain redoubled as the infected seemed to melt slightly from hopelessness, screaming in agony in their disease-fogged minds.

“I’m really –“ Chance nearly fell backwards as the one that looked like Rose surged towards her, sobbing.

“We suffer,” She insisted.

“I know,” Said Chance, and wished that she could stop talking for once. Her eyes darted around, alighting on the nearest door and she made a break for it. She turned, once she had closed it, and made to shut the lock, only to realize that there wasn’t a lock and that she had wasted almost two seconds of valuable escaping time. So she ran.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another too-short chapter. Please leave me your reviews, I'd really appreciate it.

              Chance was rushed by cats the moment she turned around. One snarled and growled deeply, low in her throat. Her jaws snapped, and her legs were tense and tightly sprung, as if she might pounce and sink her teeth into Chance’s skin. The other was presenting her long, wicked claws. She hissed, and swiped at Chance, flattening her ears against her skull.

              “What are you doing?” Snapped Chance. “Your claws _aren’t_ going to work on them. You’ve both got to get out of here.” She ran forward suddenly, and the cats jumped out of her way with terrified yowls.

              Chance skidded to a stop on the smooth white floor and turned again to face the cats.

              “Come on!” She scowled at the cats. The cats scowled back, each pressed firmly against her own wall.

              “I’m clean, can’t you see?” Chance gestured extravagantly at the skin of her arms, “Better than you’ll be if you stay here any longer.”

              The cats didn’t seem very happy about this, but Chance had won her point, and when she again turned around and started to run, she heard footsteps behind her.

              “Where are we going?” Asked one cat.

              “Up,” Said Chance, “You wouldn’t happen to know of another set of stairs, would you?”

              “Sure,” Said the cat, and she took the lead, turning down hallways, and throwing open doors.

              “Service stairway,” She explained, propping open the doors into a dimly lit stairway, cold and metallic.

              “Service stairway? I always thought you took the regular stairwell in cases of emergency.” Chance looked up at the criss-cross of steps. She couldn’t see the top.

              The other cat gave her a confused look. “What if the people were going and we needed to get to something in the other direction? We would be swimming upstream, lost in the panic.”

              “What’s your name?” Asked Chance.

              The cat paused for a moment, unsure. “Fela,” She said, and relaxed slightly.

              “And yours?” Chance turned to the first cat.

              “Gatt,” She said, and let go of the door. For a moment it seemed it would crash back into its frame and cause a terrible commotion. Instead, it caught itself halfway and slid smoothly home with hardly a sound.

              “I’m Chance,” Said Chance. She smiled. “I’m glad we met.”

              “Sorry for trying to attack you earlier,” Said Gatt with a sheepish grin that showed the tips of her fangs.

              “No worries, happens all the time. Now shall we go?” Without waiting for an answer, Chance bounded up the first set of stairs, her dark hair flying behind her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I'm a little late, I apologize. Here, finally, is the next chapter. Thank you, thank you for reading, and thank you especially for reviewing if you would like to make an observation. They are always appreciated.

              Chance had been accepted into Ward 27 only at the behest of her new escorts, who then promptly abandoned her and began to restore order to the crowd. She fished the TARDIS key out of her pocket and started to fidget with it, looking out the window at New New York – a bustling city even now, immune to the devastation within the sterile white walls. Jack had called it her ‘tell,’ the thing that would give her away in a poker match, or a drinking competition. She hadn’t really known what to make of that, but she tried to stop anyway. It wasn’t wise to flaunt the TARDIS key, tell or no.

              But her dad wasn’t here to reprimand her for it – she didn’t know if this version of him even _would_ reprimand her for it – and Jack was gone for good.

              Right. Jack. She had meant to get in a fight about that when the Doctor woke up in the Tylers’ flat, but it had quickly slipped her mind.

              _Back in the TARDIS._ Yeah, that’s when she’d bring it up. She’d get Rose involved, and, of course, Rose would be on her side. She was mentally jotting down her main arguments when something soft and warm touched her shoulder.

              Chance spun around in a sizable tornado of hair, and the cat sprang back.

              “Sorry, but your group is here,” Said Gatt, lifting her paws in surrender.

              “Oh,” Said Chance, and spat black tresses out of her mouth, “Where?”

              “There.” Said Gatt, and gestured towards a side entrance where Rose, the Doctor, and Cassandra were being thoroughly questioned from a few meters’ distance. Chance waved. Rose waved back.

              “Hey,” She said, once they’d all been declared clean, “Have we got another genius plan?”

              “Well,” Said the Doctor and scratched the back of his neck, “I don’t know about another one, but we’ve always got the first one.”

              “Oh, yes, because that worked so well.” Snapped Cassandra, still lingering in her pet clone’s body.

              “And _you._ ” The Doctor pointed harshly at Cassandra, “You are on thin ice, Cassandra.”

              “So let me drown, Doctor!” She growled.

              “Oh, you think I won’t?” He leaned closer, lowering his voice, “Because I am _not_ the same man I was 20 years ago. I’m not even the same man I was a week ago! So if you want to test me, Cassandra, I’d think twice, because not even I know what I’m capable of now.”

              “Everyone stop it!” Chance stamped her foot on the ground and Ward 27 went silent.

              “This is not what we’re here for!” Her violet eyes looked pleading, “We’re here to help people! It’s what we do, it’s why someone called us, why someone _trusted_ us enough to ask for our help, and you can’t stop fighting long enough to even think about it! You’re completely ridiculous!” She jabbed an accusing finger at his chest, which was about the same height as the top of her head.

              “ _Obviously,_ something needs to be done about Cassandra. This wouldn’t have happened if not for her.” Chance gestured at Cassandra, who nodded reluctantly, “But more importantly, people are dying, and it’s our job to help them, yeah?”

              The Doctor looked at her intensely for three seconds, four.

              “Alright,” He said, then turned his gaze to Cassandra. “But I promise you, Cassandra, you are not getting away again.”

              “Oh, I’m so scared,” She drawled.

              Rose rolled her eyes and tugged gently on the Doctor’s cuff.

              “So, going back to the plan…” She prompted the Doctor, once he turned towards her.

              “Right,” Said the Doctor, “The plan. I’m going to need intravenous solutions for every single disease. Think you can handle that?”

              “Of course,” Said Chance. It was more of a scoff.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pathetic excuse for a chapter, but I am tired. Apologies. I love you all.

When the Doctor was properly suited up with bags of every solution, he made his wheel – almost like a zipline, Chance noticed, although she’d never been on a zipline that dropped at this particular angle – and spun it experimentally, carefully observing the moving pieces in their sockets.

              “It’ll only take two,” He said, raising a deliberate eyebrow at Chance and Rose. Cassandra huffed, sprawled across a hospital bed as if to accentuate her boredom.

              “Rose should go,” Said Chance.

              “What? No!” Rose looked at her like she was mad, then realized how loud she had been and looked anxiously around the ward. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Chance cut her off.

              “I think it makes more sense for you to go. You’re the companion.”

              “You’re his daughter, and you’re smarter.” Chance looked at her, surprised.

              “That’s not –“

              “Alright then, it’s settled!” The Doctor clapped his hands together. The wheel was tucked securely in his back pocket.

              Chance ducked her head. She still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d banished Cassandra down in that basement, but she felt responsible now, to use it for good.

              “Fine,” She said.

              Rose nodded, more relaxed now that she felt the task had been dedicated to someone more worthy.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it’s me again. Took last week off in the hopes that it would improve my overall performance. I don’t know if it’s working, but I certainly feel better about this chapter. Peace out, I’m going to bed.

Mostly, Chance had been worried about touching him.

              Not that there was anything wrong with him – he was still her dad, after all. They moved with the same flickering energy, and they had the same smile; two things that would never change between them, no matter the body. But he _was_ different. There was no getting around that.

              She watched him leap into the elevator shaft, her heart leaping along with him, and grip the steel cord with his heels so he could fasten his wheel on right.

              “Come on,” He said, and jerked his neck away from her. She realized with a little psychological _click_ that he wanted her to climb on his back.

              There was a memory she hadn’t thought of in ages: her father (not this father, the last one) running in circles ‘round the TARDIS console while she clutched at his back, laughing and squealing.

              She hesitated.

              “Chance?” He looked up at her, puzzled, and Chance made an effort to relax. She let a smile grace her face, drawing on the pleasant residue of that happy memory.

              “Sorry,” She said, and he smiled from his eyes like they had all the time in the world.

              “Well, whenever you’re ready –“

              “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Chance took a few steps back and a deep breath, then took a running leap, relishing in a brief moment of weightlessness, before ramming full force into the Doctor’s newly bony back.

              “Alright?” Asked the Doctor, craning to look over his shoulder. Chance nodded into his neck. She’d locked her arms around his neck, apparently on instinct, since it certainly hadn’t been a conscious effort. There was a conflicted skirmish in the back of her brain between the comforting feeling of being near her father and the anxious feeling that she was riding on the back of a stranger. Then he released the brake and they fell straight down.


End file.
